In your Eyes
by HobbitofRavenclaw
Summary: Where Azkadellia learns the orgin of her brown eyes, the history of a speacial portrait and the Fate of one very loyal Scarecrow.


Azkadellia watched those around the dinner table. Mothers lavender eyes were fixed on Dg who was (Again) playing with her vegtables. Big baby blues fixated on her rolling peas. Fathers watery blue eyes twinkled merrily as he watched her, her mother and sister.

Az sighed and looked at her reflection in the back of her spoon.

Brown; her eyes were brown. She and she alone of their little family had brown eyes.

But not of the palace. Ambrose too had brown eyes. Was he in fact, her father? Was she adopted?  
She wasnt like DG at all, who everyone whispered was strikingly similar to her mother.

"Az, my darling whats wrong?" The queen asked in a voice that dripped of concern.

"Guess I'm just not hungry" Azkadellia mumbled. "May I be excused? Think I'll go lay down....."

"Alright my love. Do you need to be tucked in?"

"Mother, I'm 10 annuals old!" Azkadelia replied indignantly.

The king and Queen of the O.Z. smothered their laughter. "Very well then, I'll be up to check on you later."

Az headed dejectedly to her room. Halfway there she changed her mind and doubled back. The small princess padded carefully to the door of her mothers most trusted adviser and knocked softly. a muted thud was followed by a small yelp before foot steps approached.

The tall lanky advisor opened the door. Each movement precise and measured, he bowed low.

"Welcome your Grace. To what do I owe the pleasure, Azka-D?"

Azkadellia made a face. "Arent I too old for that?"

"If you deem it so." Ambrose replied deferently. "If you no longer like it I shan't call you that. Would you like to come in?"

Azkadelia stepped into the room and looked about. He had been inventing something. He did that quite often. Just like her. Ambrose uncovered the chair he kept in his workroom for the princesses. It was a large overstuffed armchair. She climbed daintily up and sat on the edge, primly and with a serious expression.

"What can I help you with my liege?" Ambrose smiled, setting his stool in front of her and folding his gangly legs.

"I require your experience. I charge you to tell me in all truth the answers of which I ask and hold back no knowledge of which you know."

"What ever you want to know." Ambrose bowed.

"Am I adopted?"

"A- what?" Ambrose asked, fully taken aback.

"Who are my real parents? Where do I come from? Who am I really? How is it-"

Ambrose held up a hand to silence her. "Ahamo and the queen are your parents. You were born on a sunny spring morning in Finaqua. Where is all this coming from Azka-"

"Its my eyes, theyre all wrong" Az mummbled into her lap. "People say -"

Ambrose shook his head. "Here let me show you." Ambrose led the young princess through many magnificent halls. Then he unlocked and opened a small door Az was certain she had never seen before.

"Before the royals lived in Finaqua there was a grand palace in the very middle of Central city."

Azkadellia nodded " Yes and there was a fire that destroyed everything. Tutor taught us that."

"Well not everything. " Ambrose corrected. "You see, the fire was commanded by an evil witch. And a week before she was able to put her plans into motion, the people of the castle got wind of it. They were told to drop everything and leave immediately. But , Your great great grandmothers adviser, an animated scarecrow, smuggled out what he called the greatest treasure ever possed. "

Ambrose drew aside a green velvet curtain to reveal a life sized Portrait inscribed 'Dorothy Gale'.

"They Gray Gale " Azkadellia gasped. Ambrose smiled.

" He called her his first and best friend. They would have to separate during the fire, she went with one division where they built the Northern palace, And he went with another division who built this palace here. It was he that named it Finaqua. You see the scarecrow had been very much in love with Dorothy. But he knew she could never love him because he was stuffed with straw. One day while walking along and trying to think of a solution to the problem (for this scarecrow had very excellent brains) He came too close to a lake and fell in!"

Azkadellia gasped. "Then what happened Ambrose?"

Ambrose smiled and patted her head. "Well the poor fellow was bothered by it and splashed about quite a lot before he was able to get out again. And finally when he stood dripping on the other side, he was no longer made of Straw, but a man of flesh."

"Did he marry the Gale?" Azkadellia asked in awe. Ambrose shook his head sadly.

"No. Even though he wanted to. When Dorothy came from the northern palace she brought with her a husband and twin daughters."

"What did the adviser do then?"

Ambrose shrugged. "He loved her daughters as though they were his own, took care of Dorothy and her family. And he kept this picture here in her honor."

Azkadellia pulled up a stool and studied the picture, drinking in every detail. "Brown, her eyes are brown like mine!"

Ambrose smiled again. "You are very much her descendant." He said leading her out again. "And I've no doubt when you're grown, you'll make just as wonderful a queen as her."

"There's got to be more to the story than that ! " Azkadelia insisted.

"There is. And I'll tell it to you. But not tonight." Ambrose smiled and lead her out again. Azkadellia skipped merrily down the hall back to her own room.

Ambrose turned back to the portrait and traced one cheek tenderly. "It's been a long time since I've been stuffed with Straw, but my love for you is the same as it was all those years ago..." He whispered to the picture of his first and best friend.


End file.
